Rejection of Your Art is Not a Rejection of You
Read that title again.
If you ask me, this is one of the most important things to remember when sending your writing, or any kind of art, out into the world, and it’s one of the easiest things to forget when facing rejection and criticism. There is a little piece of an artist’s soul in everything they make. Even if it is not a reflection of their experience, it is still many hours of time, effort, and more than likely cycles of falling into and overcoming self-doubt and imposter syndrome. So when the feedback, form rejections, or reviews start rolling in, it can be really easy to drown in the negatives. It can be really easy to give up.
This post is a timely reminder for me as much as anyone else, as I wade once more into the query trenches. I hope this collection of strategies will help shore up your defenses, thicken your skin, or whatever metaphor takes your fancy, so you can continue to bravely put your work out into the world.
First and foremost, remember that’s what you’re doing: making art is an incredible act of bravery by itself. Sharing it with two, ten, a hundred friends or strangers? That takes more courage than most people can imagine.
I’m going to focus on writing for the remainder of this post, since that’s what I know, but I think these ideas can be extrapolated for many art forms, and even other kinds of rejection.
Self-Rejection
Thank you to a member of Rose City SFF Writers for reminding me to put this in here! This is the first hurdle that many of us face, and it loves to rear its head during any and all stages of the creative process. If I had a dollar for every time I asked myself:
Am I good enough?
Am I cut out for this?
Does anyone actually care what I have to say?
I would have a heck of a lot more dollars than I’ve ever made on my writing. In fact, I almost quit writing in November last year because I’d started to believe the answer to all of these questions was “no.” Five years as a full time writer, five books written, three of them queried without an offer for representation. I felt hopeless. I remember driving to OryCon in tears, sitting in the parking lot and wondering if I should even bother going inside.
I didn’t want to waste the money I’d spent on the ticket, so I went. And I met up with other creators who were just as frustrated with the system as I was. But that hadn’t stopped them from making beautiful stories. I took solace in commiseration, and found power in their determination. It reminded me why I wanted to write: to connect with people.
So when you start to ask yourself these questions, you are your first line of defense. Recognize where the fear is coming from.
Are you hitting a rough patch in your draft or edits? Do you feel like you’re not capable of producing something as effective as you want it to be? Having room to improve doesn’t mean you aren’t good enough. It means taking some time to learn and grow.
Are you feeling overwhelmed by the sheer amount of work ahead of you, or the things required to be considered a ‘successful’ author? It’s totally valid to feel that way. Try not to be concerned about timelines, or what everyone else is doing. You get to define what success looks like for you, and do what you are comfortable doing to get there.
As for the question ‘does anyone care,’ I’ll tell you, simply, yes. It may take a while to find the right people to connect with your story, but there are billions of us in the world. Somebody, somewhere, wants–or needs–to hear what you have to say.
And if (when) your own rationalization is not enough, this is when it’s so crucial to have other writers around you to cheer you on, hold you up, and push you forward.
Not everyone wants to be a published author, and there is nothing wrong with writing or worldbuilding as a hobby. But if you’ve set your goal to publish, and you know why it’s important to you, don’t let fear and doubt stand in your way.
Processing Critique
This is something writers have to do at almost every stage beyond the first draft, all the way until the book is published. Whether from beta readers or an official critique group, often the most useful feedback is not glowing adoration but the kind that might (depending on delivery) hurt before it helps.
Always, always, always, take some time to let critique sink in. Especially when you’re a new writer, if a problem you weren’t aware of gets identified, there’s a tendency for the gut instinct to be “how dare you,” or “they just don’t get it.” This is why in most critique groups there’s a policy for the writer not to make comments while receiving critique. Don’t make any choices based on your initial reaction to a piece of feedback. Let that feeling cool off, then go back with a clearer head. You may find the feedback was correct, or partially correct, which brings me to my next point.
Get LOTS of feedback; I like a minimum of five people. If one person says something is wrong and they’re the only person you’re getting feedback from, you have no way to know if that’s simply their personal taste or misunderstanding. Whereas if four out of five people say the same thing, you know for sure where you need to direct your effort.
If people give you a prescriptive suggestion, try to look at the reason or feeling behind it. If they didn’t like the way a character interaction played out, the issue is likely not in that specific interaction, but in the build up to it. Or if they say there are too many elements and you need to get rid of some, it might be an issue of clarifying information and tying things more directly into the plot.
Some of this can be hard to do for a story you’re so close to. I’ve found it vital to have other writing friends I trust as a sounding board (you may notice a pattern here…in my opinion, writing a book really does take a village). People who know what I’m trying to achieve in a particular scene or story arc, and can help me determine whether or not a suggestion is the best way to help me get there. For this to work, make sure YOU have what you want for your book clearly stated and written somewhere prominent (in bold at the top of your word document, on a corkboard near your desk or a sticky note on your laptop). Ask yourself if a change will help you get closer to the main idea or take you further away.
This may seem obvious, but I’ve seen it happen enough that I want to say: don’t ask for critique unless you are open to making changes. If you feel the book is done (or as done as you can get it) there’s not much point in asking for feedback.
Keep in mind, there is some feedback that is just bad. Ultimately it is your story, and you know it better than anyone else. The more you write, the more confident you will be in your ability to parse what is helpful to you and what you can throw away.
Receiving Rejection
Yet another thing that authors who want to be traditionally published will face time and again. Finding an agent, going on submission, and going on submission for any new book deal, you’ll likely get a lot of very kind “this story isn’t right for me” and “this is a very subjective industry so keep at it” or simply no response at all. These are form rejections, which means they are canned responses an agent can send to the vast majority of the authors who query them–a handy timesaver, but also very frustrating, because they don’t tell you anything.
The first couple times I queried, form rejections drove me nuts. I wanted to know why, so I could fix it, because obviously there must be something wrong with my story, wrong with ME, if it was getting turned down. The difficult thing is that you can’t know why you got these kinds of rejections, but it’s likely not because of anything you did. The industry is very subjective. Reading tastes vary, the market ebbs and flows, you have no idea what unpublished works an agent’s existing client might be working on that is too similar to what you wrote…or they just didn’t feel passionate enough about your project to take it through the mill that is traditional publishing. Don’t let yourself linger on these.
For anything greater than that, give yourself some time to be sad. But then think about it another way. If you get a personalized rejection, meaning an agent said something to you about your query, synopsis, or pages, that means they took the time to write that out for you personally out of the hundreds of letters they receive. Think about that! That’s a huge win! And if they provide you with actionable feedback you can use to strengthen your work (refer back to ‘processing critique’ here), that’s even better! If they asked for more pages or even a full manuscript, think about how many people don’t get that far. If one person liked it enough to read more, that means other people will too.
In this stage, remember these mantras:
A rejection of your art is not a rejection of you.
You don’t need anyone other than yourself to validate your writing.
I am a strong and powerful [man/woman/person]. (Thank you Ted Lasso)
And when all else fails, keep writing. Not just for something else to do during this time (super important by itself) but to improve your craft and grow your body of work. Unless you’re the next Patrick Rothfuss (which, no shade, but I genuinely hope you’re not), the first book you ever wrote is not likely to take off. Books may not get published in the order you write them, and the more you have in your backlog, the easier it will be to grow your name once you find that agent or publisher!
I don’t yet have the personal experience about reading negative reviews, but the general advice I’ve come across is simply… don’t. Just as not all feedback is good feedback, not all art is for everyone. You shouldn’t aim to please as many people as possible. As long as you are writing something that is meaningful for you, it will reach someone in the way it was meant to.
Closing Thoughts
Some of this advice can feel like playing mind games with yourself. Trying to reframe things in a positive light is hard, and I know from experience it doesn’t always do the trick to effectively break you from a doom spiral. At all stages of the creative process, but in these ones especially, remember to take care of yourself. Give yourself breaks, take time, talk it out. I am more than happy to be anyone’s emotional-support-writing-friend if you need one.
It’s a hard road, but it will be worth it.